A Father By Any Other Name
by Unnamed Namesake
Summary: Written as a fill for the ME kink "Zaeed is Earthborn Shepard's biological father."


"Will need tissue sample. Cannot be too careful with scale-itch," Mordin said, sifting through his tools for the next instrument of privacy invasion. All of the infected crew sat beside one another in mordin's lab, waiting for the next step of examination after the standard blood test and cup of urine. Commander Jane Shepard sat within this lineup of men and women, her eyebrows furrowed, clenching her jaw in anger, as she actively ignored her Yeoman's silent pleads and apologies. While she liked what Cerberus stood for and was tired of the Alliance constantly sitting on their hands, at least she didn't have to worry about picking up an animal STD from fraternizing with a lower-ranking officer.

As she was trying to ignore Kelly, she decided to strike up a conversation with scarred up merc sitting beside her. "So, Zaeed, who'd you screw to end up here?" Zaeed leaned forward and pointed to a young woman at the end of the row, shifting anxiously in her seat. Shepard recognized her from the CIC but couldn't put a name to the face. "I've been shot in the damned head, set on fire, and had to fight Krogans with my bare hands, but this is something else entirely." He looked at her sideways from his good eye. "Who gave it to you, Shepard? Always took you for the type to not mix business with pleasure." She jerked her thumb to the left, where Kelly was still vying for her attention."Says she doesn't know how she got it and I don't really care, but my snatch is itching something fierce," she said, about to move her fingers down to her nether regions, but deciding against it.

"Just need DNA and hair samples," the Salarian spoke quickly while handing people cotton swabs and two tiny vials. Everyone reached up, ready to pluck a hair from their heads, when they were interrupted by Mordin. He coughed nervously, "Not hair from _head_." Everyone reluctantly stuck a hand down their pants, a few of them getting a good scratch in while they were down there. While most of them, especially in this day and age, would have been bald as a baby downstairs, all of them had accumulated their fair share of pubic hair. A crowded warship doesn't make for the best setting to shave your genitalia. Dr. Solus made his way down the line, swabbing the insides of their cheeks and dropping the samples in the vials. "Cure will be synthesized momentarily."

They sat there fidgety awaiting the doctor. The only noise in the room was the occasional rubbing together of a crewman's legs, trying to scratch, and the singing of show tunes by the scientist who was currently looking at a microscope and muttering, "Interesting." After thirty or so odd minutes Mordin spoke again as he handed out small tubes. "Apply ointment once every eight hours. Do not share ointment. Prescribed only for you. Application of others' prescription could be... problematic." They all took they designated medication and stood to leave. "Ah, Shepard. Zaeed. Need moment to talk to both of you."

The soldier and the mercenary looked at each other, asking a silent question, wondering what was going on. Mordin waited before all of the crew members were out before locking the door and talking to the both of them. "Looking through DNA samples, found something interesting. May want to sit down." They both locked eyes, sitting down slowly. "Examining genetic makeup, and noticed oddity. About 50% of genes match."

"Wait, Mordin. Are you telling me that...?" Shepard asked, her eyes wide with shock looking between the professor and the scarred man beside her. Mordin nodded and continued speaking, "Amount of genetic compatibility only possible with offspring. Zaeed is your father." Zaeed who looked like a deer caught in headlights finally cleared his throat. "So, uh... I've got a daughter." The Commander just looked at him like he had grown a second head, a plethora of emotions crossing her face in a manner of seconds, going from surprise, to offense, to uncertainty, before settling on rage. Before anyone had time to react, she slugged him across the face with a right hook that made the main guns on the Destiny Ascension feel like a powder keg. He clutched his face, feeling for any broken bones as she stormed off out of the lab. "Definitely my daughter," he muttered, massaging his jaw. "Went better than expected. Not known for her level head and predictability." Zaeed just looked at the Salarian, wondering how anyone could be this bat-shit insane.

* * *

After hitting the bag for so long, she knew her knuckles were starting to bruise, but she still had all of this pent up aggression that she needed to take out on _something_. And right now it was a toss up between her fists and the 150 kg bag that was unlucky enough to catch her on a very bad day. Just an onslaught of punches, elbows, kicks, and knees which would have broken any Krogan in a handful of hits. She heard the hydraulics of the door opening beyond her but didn't give a damn who it was.

"So... Shepard... Feels like I should say something," she heard the thick British accent mutter. She didn't turn to look at him and kept hitting her bag. "There's nothing to say," she said breathily. Before finding out the news earlier, he would have mentally complimented her body: her solid stance, tight legs flexing as she bounced on the balls of her feet; her skin glowing in the dim light, the sweat reflecting, highlighting the linings and crevices of her taut, toned muscles; the fatigues-made-boyshorts and cut-off tank top leaving little to the imagination about her ample chest, pert posterior, and the outline of a washboard on her mostly flat abdomen. Now the thought of it just made his stomach turn.

"I get you're shocked. I'm pretty goddamn boggled by it myself. But I don't understand the fucking attitude," Zaeed said, getting a little frustrated, due in no small part to the aching of his face. She stopped striking the bag and placed her taped hands against it to stop it from swinging. "You wanna know why I'm so pissed?" she asked, turning to him for the first time since he entered. The scars from her cybernetics were more apparent than ever, glowing as red as her hair. Even her eyes were starting to shine a dim scarlet. "Do you have any idea what I've been through? The things I've done? Do you know how many nights I went hungry? A little eight year old girl looking from dumpster to dumpster for her next meal. How every single fucking day was a test of survival? All because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants. But I endured, and I became strong. I didn't need a father then, and I sure as hell don't need one now." Feeling like she said what she wanted to at the moment, she walked passed him to the door, not caring for anything he had to say.

He sighed heavily, feeling guilty for something that wasn't really his fault. "Listen... Shepa-" he started to speak but was interrupted. "Jane! My name is Jane! Not Shepard! Not Commander! JANE!" And in the next moment, she was gone. "'God's gracious gift', huh?" he thought to himself.

* * *

A/N: This is something I typed up in about an hour. Haven't really edited it. There's more to it, but I want to know if the prompter is into it or not before continuing with the angsty backstory and the inevitable happy ending chapters (which will be a hell of a lot longer than this). I feel like I'm not capturing Zaeed right, though, and that bugs me. 


End file.
